


Lifestyles of the Rich and Vicious

by Book_of_Kells



Series: High Society [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:12:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1304458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Book_of_Kells/pseuds/Book_of_Kells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a reason she left Joffrey but she has allies she never expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightmare Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading ! I don't own this but it is fun to play with the characters !

**_“No ! Please!”_ **

****

**_She screamed.  The kicks centered mostly now to her thighs with the occasional blow to the hip.  The pain wasn’t mind breaking but it wasn’t a dance in the daisies either. She was covered in a patchwork of bruises not to mention the soreness.  Today, she had kept her mouth shut at lunch, no response to the baiting that was constantly flung in her direction like monkeys tossing their feces.  The little bastard wasn’t happy, so off to the garage for her punishment she was dragged._ **

**** **_She hadn’t fought this time. The beatings were worse when she fought.  Her clothes were covered in snow when they threw her into the car bay from being dragged across the lawn on her back. The concrete floor was slippery from the snowmelt they had tracked into the room. Some of the kicks had made her slide a bit across the floor like an out of control cartoon character.  The wet clothes stuck to her, causing chaff & raw skin as she flopped around the floor like a dying fish. _ **

 

**_There were no cars inside, the little brutal bastard preferred to be driven everywhere. A chair or two, not the plush kind but hardwood, upright & uncomfortable. Lannister red walls much like the main house, reminded her of a pig had that been killed and the blood spread all over the walls. It was an oubliett, a place where someone was supposed to be dealt with but no one used on a day to day basis. That was to her advantage, less flying objects, maybe less damage to her._ **

 

**_New York City in January is harshly cold, a time for everyone to try to be fashionable in layers. When the little bastard had invited her and a few friends to stay for New Years, her father had objected. But a few emails to her mother in the Adirondacks, and her dear dad’s opinion had eased a bit._ **

**_Dad….._ **

****

**_The giggles from the corner were coming faster, like the quick fits of a blond hyena.  The little bastard rocked back and forth, his face becoming flushed with excitement.  His beer swirled in time with his rocking motions, but not sloshing out of the frosted glass. Strange, she thought, how the giggles paired up with the alcohol.  He drank in the late afternoons, only a few though.  It wouldn’t do for there to be too many comparisons to mommy and daddy. Plus, he wanted to remember her face as she screamed, cried, begged…It was all a sweet symphony to him. In what realm of possibility had she ever thought she could love him._ **

****

**_There was a lull in the abuse.  The respite would be a small one, she knew from experience.  Her throat was strained from the screaming, so raw it almost hurt to breathe.  She sobbed quietly as her attacker backed away, putting his hands on knees as he leaned over to catch his breath. He was taller than her and looked like a gorilla. Mostly squat with brown hair, beard and bulgy arms, and foul breath, if what was blowing her way was any indication.   Kong seemed a bit winded today.  Maybe too much partying last night or he just couldn’t dish it out like usual.  The other one had dropped her off and walked out. He didn’t seem to have much stomach for beating young girls._ **

****

**_Lying on the floor, she curled in the fetal position.  Her back was faced away from them who would do harm, but that meant that she would see them start their next MMA session. Kong straightened in a humplike fashion. The look on his face roared disgust, right down to the sneer that twisted his thick lips. Maybe she thought, she was getting beaten for all the women who had turned him down._ **

****

**_“I didn’t tell you stop !” The blond Hyena screeched.  He flung his beer hand in her direction. The brewsky whipped out of the glass to mix with the puddles already on the glazed floor._ **

****

**_The little prick bolted out of his chair in the corner to stalk forward, his fists rising like he would actually do something   His black snow boots made dull thudding sounds as he stamped across the room to get at her. She moved back just a little bit more, snakelike, guarding her belly.  The Hyena was small but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt her. Those heavy boots would break bones if she gave the right opening._ **

****

**_“Sir, I need a minute.”  The gorilla said still blowing hard. His ruddy complexion contrasted badly with the garage’s decor._ **

****

**_“Ahhh.. Incompetents, I am surrounded by fools!  The Stark cunt stays in here to think about her crimes!”  The hyena took his beer and stomped out of the room.  Kong followed obediently behind him closing the door not even sparing her a look._ **

****

**_She rolled over onto her back, staring up at the dark ceiling.   What a pretty gilded cage I have, Sansa thought as tears leaked out of the corner of her Tully blue eyes._ **

**_Now how do I steal a key and escape……_ **

 

 

Sansa woke gasping for breath. The nightmares came when she was alone and stressed, her brain overactive even in sleep. Rubbing her face, her hand came away wet, tears or sweat she couldn’t tell the difference. Her eyes felt puffy, so maybe they were tears after all. Her nightgown was twisted about her torso, constricting her even more.

Sitting up in bed, Sansa managed to yank off her frilly silk nightgown, tossing it across the room. Sitting in bed wearing only her undies, she looked at the walls of her room. The warehouse loft that she shared with her brothers was a large open space, divided into “rooms” by bookshelves, wardrobes, or tall chest of drawers. Sansa had found a construction rehab company that was throwing away old doors. A few hinges evenly spaced and she had a tall wall to one side.

More than anything, she was glad the guys were out tonight, she decided, swinging her legs to the side of the bed. Had they heard her crying in her sleep, there would have to be explanations for her behavior. Looks would be passed back and forth, then the call out to Brooklyn Heights to her parents. No, Sansa didn’t want her parents to know that sometimes she still had dreams of Joffrey.

That New Years had been her last with him. Sansa had escaped the hell of Joffrey’s fun and avoided him when she could. Idly, Sansa had pondered from time to time if Joffrey had tried to hurt Margaery the way he had her. Though she had never dared ask, Margaery’s sunny smiles never waivered nor looked overcast with pain. It was doubtful the Tyrells would have stood for it, Joffrey would have had a hockey stick to the mouth! If the Queen of Thorns didn’t get there first.

Knowing that sleep was not coming back, Sansa put on soft yoga pants and a sweat shirt before heading out to the kitchen. The apartment was quiet, a few noises drifting up from the street below. There were lights on overhead in the dining area, large white Christmas lights that had been wound thru an old steam grate like a poor man’s chandelier.

Jon’s room was next to hers since he was a SWAT officer downtown. He was on shift tonight, Sansa remembered, as she passed his section and would be with his team downtown until 7 am. Sandor worked an opposite shift from Jon but they talked during the change overs. Thank god for that, she thought not for the first time, or she would never had gotten Sandor to go out with her !

Robb’s room was in the far corner, blocked off by what looked like industrial shelves 8 feet high. He had a scavengers soul. There was a large old wood cabinet in the dining area that looked like it a refugee from the Matterhorn. It was really their weapons locker, converted to hold their guns and ammunition. Robb was at his girlfriend Jeyne’s place tonight, having what they laughingly referred to as a kinky slumber party. 

Theon had the other corner because he snored so loud and no one wanted to be near him. He was with his family tonight in the Florida keys, doing god only knows, but those Greyjoys had odd habits. Or maybe it was Theon that was odd. It was an unspoken rule that if you had someone over to the apartment, there was no sex.  Theon often tried to ignore that rule because he liked an audience.  Ew..

Grabbing a water out of the fridge, she wandered to the living area to stand at the windows. It was warm outside, signaling that summer would be here soon. Her finals were coming up, then graduation so her workload was high. She had not been able spend time with Sandor between his work schedule and her studying.  He had some healing to do after a nasty fall on St. Patrick's Day.  Arya couldn't shut up about it.

Sansa had decided to go on for a degree in criminal law. With most of her family in law enforcement, it was a given. Her mother, Catelyn, had pushed for communications or international policy to coincide with her Political Science degree, her father had no opinion though.  Sansa had been grateful for that, and considering her experience with Joffrey, Domestic Violence was a hot issue for her.

The nightmare had left her chilled, she decided to go up to the roof for some of the warmth that she could feel thru the glass. Grabbing her cell and tucking it into a pocket, Sansa headed for what looked like a big metal duct in the corner by the door.   Pulling at the recessed handle at the wall, she moved a section of the duct back to reveal a fire escape ladder that ran up to the roof but also down to the basement garage.

Their Uncle Brynden “the Blackfish” Tully owned their building, having bought it when he was on leave from the Navy Seals during Vietnam. Years in the covert branch had left him always on his guard, so when he had the opportunity, the Blackfish had built tunnels and weapons cache in different parts of the building. He had the roof apartment which took up only half of the space, leaving the other half as a garden.

Sansa popped open the hatch that let her onto the roof and into the garden. The Blackfish had decided to use cacti and boxwoods for the decoration among his roses for the contrast to his very interesting patio furniture. Uncle Brynden worked at the gun cage for the NYPD’s SWAT teams, but he still found the time to work with his hands.

Sansa walked over to the edge of the roof to look at the cars below, meandering thru the village streets. Everyday people going about their everyday lives. She didn’t know them, would probably never meet them. One of them had saved her life while she was being held at Joffrey’s house of horrors. Sansa never found out who the good Samaritan was who saw Joffreys buddies yanking her across the snowy back lawn and called the police.

Rubbing her arms with numb fingers, she couldn’t stop the return of those memories. The feelings of helplessness & despair flooded her soul. Sansa had learned not to try to block it out but let it flow. That fool therapist Qyburn her parents had sent her for guidance, had been more interested in seeing her cry than trying to help her stop. After a few sessions of her failing to dissolve in a puddle of tears, he had told her parents she was doing much better and would need only monthly sessions. Sansa had never been back.

Looking at her phone she could see that it was about 1 am. Scrolling thru her messages, she had to laugh out loud at the ones from Sandor. In the months that had followed his officially meeting her dad, Sandor had been asked to Sunday dinner at the Starks house at least twice a month. Her mother, Catelyn, had not warmed to Sandor, preferring Sansa find someone more gentile in manner. Thank god she had never found out about the debacle with Willas.

As she continued to sifting thru her notifications, her phone went off in her hand. Sansa stared at the caller’s name, confusion and fear eating at her willpower. They have no hold over me, she thought grimly as she swiped to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Sansa dear, I am surprised that you are still up!” The caller’s laughter echoed out of the speaker.

“Burning the midnight oil.” Sansa quipped,” As are you, I see.”

“Oh no dear girl, more like burning the candle at both ends!” His voice brought back memories long forgotten.

“You always did. So why the late call?”

“I need to talk to you and since you are up, now is as good a time as tomorrow.” The happy laughter was still there but something else, resignation maybe?

“It’s so late, maybe …” Sansa hedged, this was the last thing she wanted or expected.

“I am two blocks from you, meet me downstairs, please. I promise, nothing will happen to you.”


	2. Champagne Rides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wasn't as bad as she had thought..not really

Stepping out on a New York Sidewalk at 1 am is not always a bright idea.

Sansa, armed only with her cellphone, moved away from the stoop toward the curb. She looked in both directions for her visitors arrival. There were cars moving on the cross streets, their destinations unknown. New York was the city that never sleeps, and Sansa could believe that wholeheartedly. Looking back at the six story red brick building, she could see lights flickering in different units. The apartment Sansa and her family shared was on the fifth floor. It had the distinction of being the only one that took up the whole space. Uncle Brynden had that done in case of family needing a place to stay. The other floors were divided up into four lofts with the ground floor open to shops.

The Blackfish was out of the building tonight but Sansa had sent him a text on the way down to the street. She refused to venture outside without someone knowing where she was and who she would be with. Uncle Brynden was the only one who wouldn’t freak out for what she was doing, though there was bound to be a lecture or chores in her future. Probably cleaning guns again like when she asked him to help with getting Sandor to ask her out. Gun oil looks terrible on a French manicure!

Sansa was not one for clandestine meetings so this was more than a little ominous in her opinion. Looking down at her comfy clothes, Sansa had almost wished she had changed into something else, at least something a bit complicated.   Wrapping her arms around her midsection, she could feel her irritation beginning to rise.

Just when she had decided that it was a prank, headlights rounded the corner onto Horatio Street near Lincoln Highway. Horatio was a one way street as were most in Greenwich. The Lexus made slow progress down her street, flashed its lights before coming to a stop in front of her. The street lights highlighted it’s waxed red exterior.

A tall man in an understated black suit slid out of the back seat, holding the door open for her. He had a quick smile for her like always, nodding his head inside the car. As bodyguards went, he was much more affable then he should be. But Sansa had seen that same smile on his face while he broke a guy’s hand. The guards who shadowed Joffrey had been more stand offish, watchers to his depravity.

Giving him a nod, Sansa slid into the backseat, the leather was still warm from its previous occupant. The man on her right gave a sigh as she seated herself more comfortably. The door closed with a snap, Sansa could see movement behind her despite the tinted glass as the deadly doorman walked around the car to take a seat in the front beside the driver.

“Good evening, dear girl.”

“Good morning, Your Honor.” Sansa said with slowly. If he was going to push a meeting on her in the middle of the night, he could take her wary.

“Careful, I might be saying that to you one day.” He quipped, shifting sideways to look at her in the dark.

“Not sure that is where I am going. I would like to get thru school first.” She murmured, trying not to give him too much information. He was better than some but that didn’t make him good.

“No, you have an excellent mind but a soft heart, my dear. Unlike those blunt instruments you call family, the harshness of this world should be kept from you.” Lifting a champagne bottle, he pour more into his glass before indicating to her if she wanted some.

Shaking her head in refusal to his offer of a drink, Sansa said, “ I don’t want to be wrapped in cotton and put on a shelf. That isn’t living. Don’t call my family names, they are very good people, all of them.”

“Even that hellion of a sister,” his amusement was thick in the air,” I saw a youtube vid of her breaking a guy’s arm in karate class!”

“It was Muay Thai. I think that was Fat Walder? I don’t know. She said that Krav Maga wasn’t enough exercise.” Sansa looked out the window.” Bottom line, don’t piss her off.”

“I have no plans too! Bottom line, as you put it, all the Starks are fond of using their fists!” His feathers were getting ruffled by all the talk of fighting. Sansa had not meant to remind him of his limitations.

“Tyrion, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Placing a hand on his arm, she turned back to him only to see the back of his head as stared out his own window.

“I know, my dear. It has never been my intention to upset you either. Quite the opposite. You are one of the purer souls, even if you date that dog, Clegane. But the night progresses and I need to tell you my news.”

Turning toward her fully now, she could see his missed matched eyes even in the dark as well as their bloodshot appearance. Tyrion wasn’t drunk but he possessed a haggard air that enveloped him like a blanket. His tuxedo was slightly rumpled, the tied hanging in strands around his thick neck. As a Justice for the Second Department of the Appellate Division for the New York Supreme Court, there existed a moral standard for which Tyrion wiped his feet at every opportunity. Being a Lannister had its perks, despite being the unwanted son of Tywin.

Refusing to rise to the bait about her love life, Sansa replied,” What news?”

Draining the last of his glass, he said,” Joffrey asked Margaery to marry him tonight at a family dinner. She accepted.”

Putting his glass in the holder beside him, Tryion turned and took her hands in his, concern was etched plainly on his face. Sansa looked down at their hands, thinking how strange hers looked in his small ones. Tryion had a snarky sense of humor that he wore like armor against family. But the fact that he cared enough to come to her and make sure she knew but was ok spoke volumes that under that armor was a beating heart that still thought of others. Sansa knew that she could not be harsh with him now.

Taking hold of his hands more firmly, she said,”I thank you Tryion. You didn’t have to come here, or to make me aware of this. I am sure that it will be all over Margaery’s facebook page tomorrow. I just hope that she doesn’t expect me to attend.”

With a laugh, he replied,”Oh ho ! I doubt you will not get off that easy. I think they still have hopes of matching you to Willas.”

With a grimace, Sansa advised,”Gods no. I met him a few months ago when Loras and the Rangers went to the Stanley Cup. He is a nice man..”

“But you don’t like the limp ones, obviously.”

“Tyrion!” Sansa was shocked that he would make such a statement. Willas wasn’t limp but he just didn’t get her blood moving the way Sandor did.

“If she doesn’t like the limp ones..” The bodyguard began from the front passenger’s seat.

“That’s enough, Bronn.” Tyrion cut him off, ”Well my dear, if you are ok and I hope you are. I will leave you. By the way, you might want to consider interning for me?”

“You will just chase me around the desk!” Sansa said with a laugh.

“Alas this is true, speaking of chasing, have you heard from your Uncle Petyr lately?” Tyrion questioned as he reached for his glass and the champagne.

“He is still at the Eryie in British Columbia with Aunt Lysa. Oddly enough he has taken to calling about once a week or emailing since Joffrey and I broke things off. The calls go to voicemail but I do respond to the emails but only after a day or two. Why?” Petyr wasn’t really a favorite in the family but Sansa didn’t want to alienate someone who was expressing concern about her even if he was strangely intense.

“I had heard a rumor that he might be in the neighborhood soon. I didn’t know if that was true. “

“I don’t know. Mom hasn’t said anything.” Sansa was sure that Catelyn would have mentioned if family was coming to town.

“Hmmmm. Ok, well I will leave you, my dear. You are much more than you know, so you will accomplish more than you dreamed.” Tryion said with a smile that lit up his face.

“Thank you again, Tyrion. For all of it.” Sansa squeezed his arm again before letting herself out of the Lexus.

Tyrion sat back in his seat until he was sure that Sansa had made it back into the building with the door shut firmly behind her. Many people had nasty things to say about Blackfish Tully but the man was paranoid when it came to his security and that of his people. Noone moved into his building until they passed his screening, which probably involved more NSA or FBI contacts than Tyrion could dream of having. Sansa was as safe behind the streetside steel door that could probably repel rockets.

“Did you ever tell her that you got her out of that hellhole of Joffrey’s?” Bronn said as he looked in the lighted vanity mirror at his boss.

“No, and I won’t. Joffrey is a Lannister, though Baratheon is on his birth certificate. I can’t allow it to get out that I am siding against my family. Even if they call me monster, and praise that sick twist to the heavens.”

Bronn wasn’t letting it go. “She is quite a bit of fluff that. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of trying to give it a ride?”

Nonplussed, Tyrion finished his drink,”Thinking and doing are two entirely different things. Pod, Home.”

The flash of taillights and the red Lexus travelled down Horatio street, heading downtown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if any of you had see the old 80's show, Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous but I caught it once and thought it a bit cheesy if you look at MTV Cribs or Fabulous life of... At the end of the show, the host said, its champagne wishes & caviar dreams.. that was a bit of the inspiration for this set.

**Author's Note:**

> I realized about 4 am that I have screwed up my timeline. I ask forgiveness from those who are Hockey fans because the Stanley Cup playoffs usually start in April unless there are issues. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
